


Fruitcake

by WizardlyWaffles



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Feels, I made myself sad, I regret my life choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardlyWaffles/pseuds/WizardlyWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I asked my sister how long a fruit cake would last and she said it lasts a long time, so I wrote something that made me super upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fruitcake

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, fruit cake was the earliest recipes from ancient Roman times (imagine Grandpa Rome and Chibitalia making fruitcake together!) and can last up to a year before it rots! According to the fruitcake wiki, Italy's version of a fruitcake is called Panforte, which dates back to 13th century. What else happened to Italy in the 13th century? According to Chibitalia's timeline, it is about the 10th century when Holy Roman Empire was still around, and before the 30 years war. Which inspired me to write this fluffy but really sad fic.

"Miss Hungary! Can you reach for that book up there?" Italy asked sweetly, she was on her very tippy toes but still couldn't reach the top shelf without toppling backwards. "Why of course, Italy!" Hungary replied, effortlessly grabbing the book and kneeling down to give it to her. "Thank you!" "My, is that a recipe book?" Italy waddled over to the study desk, heaving the book almost as large as her body and slamming it onto the desk with a pant. Hungary couldn't help but chuckle at tiny Italy's strength. 

Italy scanned through the pages hastily and stopped her finger on a particular page. "Yes miss! I'm going to bake something for Holy Rome!" she squeaked eagerly, "See? There's a recipe in here! Holy Rome and I made it once...so I thought maybe...I could make it again and send it to him...because it lasts about a year until it rots right? So no matter how far he is, he'll get it eventually!" 

A fruitcake. Ah yes, now Hungary remembered, it was so long ago she had seen those two making it for Christmas day. But now...Holy Rome was gone. Things had changed since he had left. For one, Italy was so persistent in wanting to make sweets. Every time she did, Austria would get mad because his pantry was filling with fresh sweets put atop sweets that had been in there for so long they began to rot. Hungary did try and make Italy happy by eating what she had made. But in the end, she always had to put some of them in the trash to avoid a bad smell filling the house. Italy would always feel discouraged finding her sweets poking out the trash. Hungary never knew Italy was so into baking. But something didn't seem right. 

"Italy, we've talked about this..." "But Miss Hungary! I promise I won't hide it under my bed like last time! It's just I promised Holy Rome I would make him lots of sweets and he hasn't written to me about the sweets I already sent him! So maybe they were rotten!" she complained, clutching the edges of her frilly dress in frustration, puffing her cheeks out in annoyance, "I promise I won't make a mess! I'll clean up quickly!" Hungary could see tears starting to form in those big, hopeful eyes of hers. How could she possibly say no to her? "If you insist. Don't cry to me if Austria catches you though!" Hungary said, waving her hand in dismissal. "Thank you Miss Hungary!" Italy squeaked, giving a little bow and hauling the book to the kitchen. 

She didn't think much of it at the time, but she realized very quickly as the smell of baked fruit and rum began to fumigate her sinuses, there was no way Austria could ignore that smell. She shook her head and continued pruning the roses in the courtyard outside Austria's study, jumping as she heard his footsteps echoing their way down to the kitchen. When she looked behind her she saw the look on Austria's face, needless to say he was infuriated, how badly would little Italy be punished now? "Oh Mister Austria! Please don't berate him! He is grieving!" Hungary called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. "Hungary don't be ridiculous! This bravado of her's has to end! For the sake of this house's musk! I cannot allow another sweet to rot and smell!" Austria complained. Hungary dashed over to Austria and tugged his sleeve. "It's Holy Roman Empire. He's baking something to send to Holy Roman Empire!" She explained quickly.

After she had said it she could see his face go from red in anger into a grim look. "But Hungary, if I allow her to do this, when will she stop? All the recipes I've 'sent' to Holy Roman Empire I've gone out and buried, because there is no way he would be able to receive them without them rotting" Austria sighed, adjusting his glasses. "She's making a fruitcake. It will last about a year. Please Austria, please send this one. You know how many countless sweets she's sent to Holy Roman Empire, awaiting some response. She's heart broken" Hungary whimpered, a few tears straying from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. "You shouldn't let your emotions get the better of you, Hungary. Although, I suppose I can make an exception  _this_ time. But this will be the first and last time I will send sweets to Holy Rome" Austria muttered, releasing himself from Hungary's grip and walking into the kitchen. 

"Italy! What is all this?" Austria asked sternly, causing Italy to jump on the spot. "Oh, uh Mister Austria! I'm making a sweet for Holy Rome! I promise I'll clean up! When it's done cooling can you please send it to him?" Italy squeaked in a panicky tone. "If you polish all the shoes in my closest. Then I will send it to him" Austria muttered, coldly walking back into the garden. Hungary looked at Italy's beaming face, giving a reassuring smile. "I will Mister Austria! I'll make sure you can see yourself in them! Thank you!" Italy called back. 

She cut up the fruit cake into little hearts and wrapped them in a white cloth, tied up with a red bow. Hopefully Holy Rome would love these! She attached a small card on the bottom of the fruit cake hearts inside the white cloth. She hoped Holy Rome would actually respond this time! After spending an hour, washing and polishing 24 pairs of shoes Austria owned in his closest, she eagerly dashed with the package in her hands and knocked on the door. "Mister Austria! I've finished polishing all the shoes! And cleaning up the kitchen! Can you please send it?" Italy eagerly squeaked from the door, rocking on the edge of her heels. Austria looked down at little beaming Italy and knelt down. "Before I send this Italy, I want you to remember something, okay?" Austria asked calmly. Italy nodded eagerly and held onto her dress in anticipation. "What is it Mister Austria?" "This will be the first and last time you will make sweets for Holy Rome. From now on, you are banned from using the kitchen to make sweets" He spoke grimly, watching as Italy's gaze lowered to the floor and began to tear up.

"But...why? I promised Holy Rome I would make lots of sweets for him!" She whimpered. "We don't know when he will return. What I do know is that I will be the first to hear about it. So until I get news of his return, there is no need to make sweets. I will tell you when he'll return. Then you may make sweets for him. But until then, if I catch a whiff of anything sweet being made in the kitchen, I will stop sending letters to him altogether" Austria huffed. Italy supposed what Mister Austria said made sense, after all, even she couldn't deny cleaning out rotting cakes from the many places she hid them had become such a chore. "...okay...but promise you'll tell me when he returns so I can make lots of sweets for him!" Italy squeaked through her tears. Austria hastily took the letter and slammed the door. Italy stood there idly, smiling through her tears. Hopefully, Holy Rome would receive it. 

                                                             ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Across stretching wheat fields, Holy Rome sat in the glow of a small fire in the night, his vigilance keeping him awake. He couldn't let the enemy catch him off guard in the middle of such a large battle. He hadn't of slept in days, his musket held close to his chest. Oh how he missed Italy's presence right now. Her beautiful hair; that large, frilly dress. The way she would always work her hardest to keep the house clean. Little memories like those reminded him to stay strong and keep fighting for what he believed in. So he could return and give her every confession of love coursing through his head to dear sweet Italy.

There was the screeching craw of an eagle up ahead, it's silhouette gradually becoming closer to the hay bails he laid hidden. Holy Rome hoped it wasn't a vulture coming to feed off his weakened body, unable to move due to a large gash on his leg. True, he was currently hiding in retreat, but that wouldn't stop him from getting up to his feet soon enough. That eagle looked familiar... did it belong to Mister Austria?

It gave another primal screech before dropping something from it's talons, a parcel? Holy Rome wriggled to where the package fell, just a few meters away from his base. It wasn't wise to go out into the clearing when he was injured and vulnerable like this, but for Italy, he was willing to do anything to hear from her again. He writhed against the grass, wincing each time his open wound on his leg made contact against the wheat, staining the wheat with blood. Holy Rome finally grabbed the package with his teeth and dragged himself back, propping himself by his elbows and unwrapping it hastily.

Fruitcake? Instantly he remembered everything. Without hesitance, he shoved one or two of the fruitcake hearts into his mouth, letting out a small moan of bliss as he savored the flavor. Those dried fruits, the rum. Italy remembered that time so long ago! "Italia...." he mumbled between chews, tears starting to prickle into his eyes. He missed Italy so much. This was the first gift he had ever received from Italy since he had left Mister Austria. After all the fighting he had endured, his supplies were growing short. For once, Holy Rome was unsure if he was going to make it out of this situation alive. 

"There's a card..." he murmured as he licked his fingers, to take in every last flavor the fruit cake had to offer. He shakily raised it to his face and read it aloud. 

"Ciao Holy Rome! How is everything? I hope you're doing well~

I'm sorry about all the sweets I sent you. I'm sorry they were rotten, I hope you aren't mad!"

Holy Rome blinked in confusion. What was Italy talking about? This was the first instance of sweets being sent to him!

"I miss you so much~ Mister Austria and Miss Hungary have told me to stop baking because the house is getting filled with rotten food, so I'm really sorry I can't send anymore! 

Promise me you'll keep in touch! I'll make so many sweets when you return! I miss you so much!

\- Italia"

Holy Rome wiped a tear from his eyes and laid his head back against the hay, a smile spreading across his face. "Italia...I miss you too. I love you" he whispered to the stars through his tears. He only wished he could be able to send something back to her. However, there was nothing to write with here. Holy Rome smiled regretfully and curled up. He was certain he'll let her know his full feelings when he returns. "Wait patiently Italia...I'll be back" He whispered hopefully, "I promise it" 


End file.
